The mendhi application finally came to an end. Zoya still felt the agony of the acid seeping through her flesh. She closed her eyes, as she tried to keep a straight face, lest she give away that she's in pain. It was time for Asad to try to find his name on her palms. Dilshad called Asad and had him sit where she once did, as she placed Zoya's hands in his.
Zoya shuddered under his touch. Despite the pain, she still felt the jolt of pleasant electricity that ran through her every time they made contact. She looked at him and melted again, as his eyes bore deep into hers. They shared an eye lock, forgetting about the dozens of guests surrounding them.
"Bhaijaan, aapka naam Zoya Bhabhi ke haathon mein likha hua hai, unki aankhon mein nahin!" teased Najma, as everyone giggled at the lovely couple. Asad and Zoya both blulshed and looked down. Asad looked at her one last time, and then shifted his attention to her hands. He scanned the designs carefully, thoroughly enjoying holding her hands and the feel of her slender fingers in his. He looked over her left hand meticulously, and finding nothing, gently placed it back on her lap. Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand from hers, and put it on his own lap.
As he scanned her right hand, he noticed her biting her lip, as she tried to suppress a smile, out of the corner of his eye. He smirked, knowing he was close. And sure enough, there it was. On the pocket between her thumb and index finger, he found his name written in a beautiful cursive, in green. He couldn't suppress his smile, and looked up to meet her eyes. He pointed at his name with his other hand, and motioned his eyes for her to look at it. She did, and as she met his eyes again, she blushed and smiled at him.
All that pain had been worth it. Seeing him smile, seeing him work so hard to find his name, and his contentment at successfully doing so was worth any amount of acid on her hands. But as she thought of the acid, she felt her pain resurface. Once again, she tried to blink back her tears of agony, as she didn't want to ruin the event. She could see Tanveer seething in anger in the corner, as she realized her plan had flopped. Making up some excuse of a headache, she retired to her room upstairs. Zoya was happy to see her go. She still wouldn't show her pain, as she had no way to explain how it happened.
After she felt enough time had passed, and Asad had gotten up to be teased by the other girls, she excused herself, saying she needed to get away from the mendhi fumes and went to the kitchen.
Asad blushed as the girls congratulated him. Najma pouted, sad that she wouldn't get to see her bhaijaan give Zoya a gift. She was unaware that Zoya had already received the most precious gift she could ever get from him last night. His acceptance. Asad turned towards Zoya, his eyes aching to see her. But when looked back, he couldn't find her. Instead he was greeted with an empty seat. He looked around, and finally caught sight of her in the kitchen. Seeing her sitting at the dining table, alone, he thought it was the perfect opportunity to figure out what was wrong. He made his way to the kitchen and watched as she sat there, a tear streaming down her left cheek.
He took a few steps toward her, and pulled up a chair next to her. The movement around her jolted her out of her pain stricken state. She panicked as she realized it was Asad.
"Meine jo Tanveer se kaha woh bilkul sahi nikla. Aap sach mein apna daard kabhi bhi zahir nahin hone deti hain," he said sadly. He put his finger under her chin and turned her head to face him. But she refused to look up. She knew as soon as she did, one look at his eyes, and she would no longer be able to hide her pain.
Suddenly, she thought of an idea. "Woh... mere haathon mein mendhi lagi hui hai, toh... mein paani nahi peesakti," she said, feigning irritation like a little child. She had to be strong. She didn't want him to notice her pain. And most of all, she didn't want to have to explain how it happened. Just the thought of him shouting at her or not believing her again sent a stab through her heart.
Asad looked at her skeptically. He knew she was lying. Her pain was evident throughout the entire ceremony. It wasn't a slight irritation over something as little as not being able to grab a glass.
"Aapka naam, jo mere haath mein hai, woh kharab ho jayega, Mr. Khan," she continued quietly, hoping this would be enough for him to help her drink water and drop the subject of her pain.
Despite his worry for her current state, he felt his heart swell. But still, she refused to look up at him. Before he knew it, his other hand was on her cheek, as he wiped the tear with his thumb.
That did it. Zoya looked up at him, slightly shocked, and as soon as she met his chocolate orbs, she felt her vision blur.
"Zoya..." was all Asad could manage seeing her eyes brim with more tears. What could be so bad, that she won't even let herself cry in front of me...
"It hurts, Mr. Khan," she said, her voice cracking. Her last shred of strength was gone. She couldn't take the pain silently anymore. Asad reached for the jug of water, and poured some into a glass. He held it in front of her face, in an attempt to calm her down.
She looked down, as she noticed what he was trying to do. She smiled through her tears, which were now streaming down her cheeks freely. She started to move her arm, in an attempt to wipe them, but stopped when she felt his fingers on her face once more. She looked at him again, and noticed his worry and care for her in them. She slowly dipped her head low enough for her lips to touch the glass.
Asad watched as she attempted to drink water from the glass, and tipped it upwards, helping her drink the liquid. Taking his hand off her face, he set the glass down on the table. When he looked back at her, he noticed she had some drops of water on the corner of her lips. Zoya noticed this, and tried to get them with her tongue, but failed miserably.
Asad smiled a little, and with a handful of her dupatta in his fingers, he slowly wiped the droplets, their eyes occasionally making contact. Once he was done, he let go of her dupatta, and brought one of his hands below her chin one more time.
This time, Zoya looked him square in the eyes. "What hurts, Zoya? Please tell me," he begged. Hadn't he just assured her that he accepted her? That nothing about her would make him ashamed of her? He mentally cursed himself again for ever having judged her, for having assumed things about her parents and upbringing.
Zoya noticed the play of emotions in his eyes. From concern, to worry to self-loathing. She hated seeing that in his eyes, and knew that he had probably misunderstood her statement.
"M- My, hands..." she answered, hoping this would make him realize she wasn't mad at him, or hurt by him in any way. At this, Asad looked down at her hands. He noticed her fingers were twitching, as if from pain. Why are her hands hurting? Sirf mendhi hi to lagai hai. What could be hurting her?
"What Zoya? What's wrong with your hands? You can tell me," he said earnestly.
Zoya hesitated. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to share her pain. For the first time in a long time, she didn't want to be strong. But that nagging feeling that he wouldn't believe her stopped her once again.
"I, I don't know, Mr. Khan," she said finally, averting his gaze.
"Mr. Faroo- Zoya... I know you're lying. You know what's hurting you. Please tell me." His voice was almost a whimper. Please, Zoya, don't shut me out.
"Aap, aap mera yakeen nahin karengein, Mr. Khan. Aur... aaj ki rasam mein kharab nahin karna chati. Rehne dije, Mr. Khan. Kuch nahin hai. I'm fine," she tried to assure him, in a watery voice. The acid was seeping deeper, or at least that's how it felt to Zoya.
Asad's heart sank. She doesn't trust me? Well, I do always get mad at her. But I need to know. "Aap jhoot bol rahi hain. I can tell you're in pain. Please, please tell me what's wrong. Dekhie, mein vadha karta hoon. Mein aapki puri baat sununga, aur aapse bilkul naraaz bhi nahin hoonga," he tried assuring her in return. He felt as if he was talking to a child. But then that's how she was behaving. He mentally smiled.
Zoya looked at him. She really wanted to tell him, but... would be he really not snap at her? She closed her eyes, as she felt another set of needles due to the acid. She couldn't take it anymore.
"A-acid... mendhi mein kisi ne a-acid milaya hai," she managed, after what seemed like centuries.
"Acid? Lekin kyun? Aur aise karega kaun?" asked a confused Asad.
"M-mein nahin jaanti," replied Zoya, feeling more needle in her palms. Pain usually numbs with time, but this acid seemed to be special, thought Zoya. "M- mujhe ek note mila, jismein likha tha ki mendhi mein acid milaya gaya tha," she lied.
He saw her wince, and realized that if she indeed was telling the truth, the acid must be burning her skin. Ya Allah, why didn't she say anything when they were applying it!
"Agar mendhi mein acid milaya gaya hai, to aapne mendhi lagayi kyun?" he asked, his voice full of pain for her agony. "Aapne itni dair tak itna daard saha... kyun? Kya zaroorat thi? Mendhi lagane se inkaar kar deti aap," he asked ruefully. He knew something was wrong when she was looking at him during the application. And yet he didn't realize she was in such pain.
"Agar mein inkaar kar deti, to kya aapko ajeeb nahin lagta, Mr. Khan?" she asked him sadly. "Aapko bura nahin lagta, ki mein apne haathon pe aapke naam ki mendhi laga nahin rahi thi?" She looked into his eyes as she asked him this.
Asad looked at her with disbelief. She had gone through all this pain... for him. She wanted to have mendhi with his name on her hands. And even the acid didn't stop her. She was willing to go through all that pain, just for me? Why, Zoya?
"Aapne yeh nahin socha, ki aapke daard se mujhe kitni takleef hogi?"
At this Zoya's eyes widened. Did he just say that?
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